


From Friends to This

by galentines



Category: 9 to 5 the Musical - Parton/Resnick
Genre: F/F, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 07:16:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galentines/pseuds/galentines
Summary: It’s more than Judy expected, when she called her friend after being kicked out by her landlord.





	From Friends to This

**Author's Note:**

> I stole the title from a Taylor Swift song. Anyway, I love two soft disaster lesbians.

It’s just temporary, Judy insists. She can live on her own, really, she knows she can. She hasn’t done it before, but why should that matter?

“Uh huh,” Violet drawls, smirking as she helps Judy carry her suitcases in. 

It’s more than Judy expected, when she called her friend after being kicked out by her landlord. The whole rebuilding-her-life plan was starting to go a little haywire. She had just wanted the place to smell nice, and she happened to have a new candle, and then she had to run to the store, and the fire _ only  _ scorched the table.

She hadn’t really liked that tablecloth, anyway. 

“Putting out a candle before you leave the house is like Being An Adult 101, Judes.”

She feels her cheeks burn as they haul all of her belongings to Violet’s guest room. She was so, so grateful -- she hadn’t even gotten the entire story out over the phone before Violet was insisting on helping her out. And of course she had spiraled, worrying about being a burden and what Josh might think. 

_ Josh never leaves his room except to clean out his bong, _ Violet had said on the phone, and that was that. Judy was moving in. 

“It’s not much,” Violet says with a sigh, gesturing around the small room, “but it should be comfortable.” 

“It’s wonderful, Vi, thank you.” 

Violet gets restless like she always does when Judy thanks her. It makes her giggle, just a little, to see her friend speechless. She moves to hug Violet, who’s rolling her eyes to hide her own smile. 

Judy likes hugging Violet. It’s comforting, and makes her feel safe, especially since Violet started, you know,  _ hugging her back _ . It’s just what a good friend should feel like. 

“Okay, okay.” Violet pulls away. “I’ll leave you to get settled. When you’re ready, we can discuss what you want for dinner.” 

“You cook?!” Judy can’t quite imagine her friend slaving over a stove. 

“Ha!” Violet cackles. “Then _ my  _ place would be the one in flames. I’ll show you the stash when you’re ready.”

The words are ominous, and Judy isn’t quite sure what that means, but she lets it go. Violet disappears elsewhere in the house and Judy finally takes a good look around the room. 

It is small, but it’s charming. The quilt on the bed looks like the kind a grandma would make, handed down a few generations through the family. There’s a framed painting of a dog in a garden on the wall, and-- 

Fresh flowers in a vase on the dresser. 

Violet had told her they never use this room. Why would there be fresh flowers sitting out? They’re pretty, too, some simple daisies and daffodils and baby’s breath that Judy can’t help but sniff. They certainly help a barren room feel a little brighter. 

With a smile, she gets to work organizing her clothes, filling in the drawers of the empty dresser. 

\--

She emerges an hour later, feeling productive. A decent amount of her belongings were put in storage until she finds a permanent solution, but all she brought with her has a place. 

Violet is reading a magazine at the kitchen table. Judy notices that she’s changed, now in a faded sweatshirt and plaid flannel pants. She looks so cozy, Judy thinks, and feels warmth in her chest. 

“Ah, there you are! Hungry?”

“You really don’t have to go to any trouble, Vi--”

Violet gestures over to the counter, where a banged up cardboard box is bursting with delivery menus. 

“I’m a working mother and I admit my faults,” she says with a smile. “We’re a take-out home. Pick a few places, I’ll tack them up on the fridge.”

Judy glances at the fridge, noting there’s already a pizza place, a chinese restaurant, and a sandwich joint represented, hung up by magnets. 

“Surely, somewhere you guys already like would be fine.”

“Nonsense. You stay here, you pick a menu. In fact, pick three, I’m sick of Sal’s but Josh always insists.”

She goes back to reading her magazine, leaving Judy to sift through the mountain of flyers. She settles on a decent looking deli menu, but Violet raises an eyebrow, so she picks out a small French place as well. 

“Perfect, we’ve never tried that!” 

Violet takes the menus, hanging them with magnets that Josh made in elementary school. Nothing fancy, but for some reason, it makes Judy feel a little bit special. 

\--

Things start to follow a routine for the next few days. Judy wakes up early, as she always has, and starts some coffee. She’s always loved a big homemade breakfast, and Josh has quickly become a huge fan of her pancakes every morning. And by the time she’s flipped the last one, Violet appears smirking with a full cup of coffee waiting for her. 

Josh runs to school, they catch the subway to work, and everyone comes back in the evening. Judy tries very hard not to take up too much space, not to steal their time. Even though it’s just the two of them, she can tell that family time is very important. But Violet is always insisting, always including her. 

Judy realizes that Violet is probably just as lonely as she is. It’s nice to have company at home. 

After a week, the flowers on the dresser begin to wilt. Judy wakes up, surprised, to a fresh bunch the next morning.

\--

Everything was comfortable and lovely, right until she wakes up that day. 

The flowers are, again, so pretty. Pink lilies. She needs to remember to thank Violet today. Not just for the flowers, but for everything. 

Humming to herself as she goes to get ready, she doesn’t think twice before turning the door knob to the bathroom. 

“Fuck!” Violet curses, stumbling into the nearest towel. 

“Oh my god Violet, I am so sorry!” Judy shields her eyes but can’t seem to move, rooted in the doorway of the bathroom. “You’re never up this early!”

“Well, I did have the door shut. You can open your eyes, kiddo.”

Judy peaks between her fingers, and seeing Violet fully wrapped in a towel, drops her hand. Neither of them say anything. And Judy is trying so hard to find something else to look at, something on the wall perhaps, but a bead of water on Violet’s shoulder catches her eye. 

She watches it, eyes following as it drips down her arm. 

“Can I finish?”

Her eyes snap back up, and Violet is smirking at her.  _ Smirking! _

“Oh goodness, of course, of course, yes!”

She locks herself in her room all morning, mortified. Even when Violet shouts through the wall that the bathroom’s free, she stays curled up under the covers. 

All she can think about is that drop of water. The curve of Violet’s shoulder. 

\--

“Friday night used to be our night,” Violet muses sadly, after Josh bids them both farewell to go hang out with friends. “Movies, maybe, or board games. I tried to keep it up after he died, but. Well.” 

She shrugs, and Judy feels her heart drop. 

“I like board games,” she offers, and Violet’s answering grin makes her feel lighter than air. 

She learns that Violet is a beast at Sorry, taking absolutely no prisoners. Judy also learns that one of Violet’s favorite movies is Annie Hall, that she likes lots of salt but no butter on her popcorn, that she looks kind of adorable with her hair in a messy ponytail. 

When Judy starts to shiver while they watch TV late in the evening, Violet drapes a knit blanket over both of them. 

There’s a good two feet between their bodies, but Judy suddenly feels warm all over. 

“You smell nice, Judes.”

Violet’s eyes haven’t even left the television, but there’s a gentle smile on her lips. 

“Uh, thank--thank you,” Judy stutters. 

\--

Little things start sticking out to Judy. Just here and there, not a big deal, she’s  _ certain _ . Violet is just… a very dear friend. 

Who comes home with boxes of Judy’s favorite tea bags as a surprise. 

Who orders dinner and already knows what Judy wants to get. 

Who seems to always pat Judy’s arm, or lightly rub her back, if they pass in the hallway. Or the kitchen. Or the den. 

And suddenly, dealing with insomnia at 1am on a Saturday evening, Judy sits up in bed. 

Her best friend is her roommate. 

And she thinks she has feelings for that best friend. 

\--

As a fall chill starts moving in, Violet falls ill. Just a little cold, she insists. Nothing serious. She still goes to work every day, sneezing so loudly that Judy can hear from outside her office. 

Judy tells her that she’ll be home a little later, ignoring the puzzled look on Violet’s face as she goes to the elevator. 

She picks up some soup from Violet’s favorite deli, and some extra tissues from the corner store. At the last second, she buys a small little bunch of pink roses from the flower shop down the block. 

Violet’s always taking care of her, and now it’s time to return the favor. 

\--

Violet is happily surprised by the soup and flowers, but reluctant to let Judy take charge. 

“Really, kiddo, it’s not a big deal, I’m fi--”

“Couch,” Judy orders, pointing her finger toward the den. Violet sighs and shuffles over. “Eat your soup, I’ll turn the news on. Be right back.”

At Judy’s insistence, they spend the evening in their pajamas, under that blanket, taking it easy. She can’t stop fussing over Violet, who blushes at any small thing Judy does for her, which makes Judy feel… wonderful. 

She’s so screwed. 

Violet falls asleep first, feeling worse than she’ll admit. And Judy knows she should wake her, should help her get into bed where she’ll be more comfortable.

But for a moment, just a quick one, she reaches out to stroke Violet’s hair. Watches her breathe. 

\-- 

Somewhat improved, Violet is out the door early the next morning for a work meeting. Judy happily loads Josh’s plate with pancakes. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking for somewhere to live?” he asks. 

Judy nearly drops the plate on the floor. 

“What?”

Josh laughs like he knows something.

“Thanks for breakfast. And don’t worry -- you two are actually kind of cute. Mom seems happy.”

\--

_ You two are actually kind of cute. _

What on earth is that supposed to mean?

She works straight through lunch, unable to focus on anything all day. 

\--

Once she and Violet get home after work, Judy excuses herself to her room. 

She can’t have feelings for her best friend. She  _ can’t _ . Not while they’re living together, working together-- Violet is her boss! 

Not to mention, Violet is… 

Judy can’t even let herself think about liking a woman before her hands start shaking. And it’s been a while since the last one, but she knows. It’s coming. A panic attack in her friend-turned-crush’s home, just great. She sits on the bed, braces herself, waits for the pain to spread across chest as it always does. 

“I was thinking some pasta for dinner--”

Judy’s breathing gets worse, more difficult, as Violet stops dead in the doorway. She has to squeeze her eyes tightly shut, trying to focus on inhaling and exhaling as a slower pace. 

Suddenly Violet’s hand, warm and gentle, is rubbing up and down her back. 

“It’s okay, Judes. Just focus. Come here.”

Taking her hands, Violet guides Judy to the carpeted floor, making sure her back is against the wall. She gets Judy to pull her knees to her chest, to bow her head to and just breathe. In through her nose, out through her mouth. 

Her hand never stops stroking Judy’s back. 

It feels like a million years before she gets her body under control. And she’s so exhausted by it, so confused by her feelings and so scared, she just slumps into Violet, quiet tears running down her face. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs into the soft, worn sweatshirt Violet is wearing. She inhales deeply, recognizing the musky smell of Violet’s perfume, the smell she’s come to associate with… home. 

“Any time,” Violet answers, voice barely above a whisper. She just holds Judy, lets her work through it, doesn’t ask questions or prod. 

She delicately kisses Judy’s forehead. 

It’s the safest Judy has ever felt in her life. 

\--

The next morning, the flowers in her room have been changed to beautiful red roses. 

Judy feels more sure, more solid, than she has in a very long time. 

It’s one of those rare weekends when Violet is up first, already brewing coffee and reading the newspaper in the kitchen. The second Judy sets foot in, Violet is on her feet, full of concern and comfort. 

“You doing okay today?”

Judy wraps her arms around her, nodding into her shoulder. 

“ _ Yes _ .”

And when they pull apart, Judy doesn’t let herself think. She just pushes onto her tiptoes and presses her lips to Violet’s. 

Violet’s hand raises to cup Judy’s cheek, deepening the kiss, and everything falls into place. 

\--

A week later, they grip each others’ hands and break it to Josh that they’re now together. 

“Haven’t you been a thing for like, weeks?” he asks casually. 

Both women start. 

“What? No, we--”

“It’s still new--”

“Sure,” Josh interrupts, rolling his eyes. 

He holds out his plate for pancakes.


End file.
